April Moon
by Kibuka
Summary: Kagome's contemplations of Inuyasha one night. Implied sexual activity.


**Authors Note:** Damn fickle muse. The idea for this story popped into my head while I was trying to work on the second installment of _Giri. _I swear it's almost done. I've just run into a little writers block. Add to that fact that I've got about 4 other story ideas bouncing around in my head vying for my non-existant creative attention. Needless to say my lack of progress has me rather annoyed. Perhaps if I bang my head against my computer desk hard enough the other ideas will shut up and get in line. On second thought maybe not. With all the brain cells I destroyed in High SchoolI might need all of what I have leftjust to function with a minimal amountof productivity.Anyway, enough of my mindless dribble; read on and enjoy. Or don't. It's your choice

A Tall White Mocha Studios presents:

April Moon

In these hours between sunset and sunrise are the moments in time I hold most dear. Sitting here like this with the moon's rays shining through my bedroom window I am afforded a unique opportunity. Tangled as he is in the sheets of my bed with his beautiful long, silky hair arrayed beneath his head and his adorable dog-ears; he projects a picture of utter unguarded peace. It is sadly a state he only seems to find on this side of the well and in my room. My scent he says. He tried explaining it to me once, just what it was about my scent that comforted him so. But he has never been good with words, my Inuyasha; a life of isolation will do that to you.

Though, I suppose that putting the complexities of his heightened sense of smell into words would be like describing sight to the blind. It is something you would have to experience to understand. So, when words failed him, he instead showed me with his touch, with his lips, and his love. And he has kept on showing me, with his comforting presence during the day and his complete attentions when we're able to find time alone. Though I should be used to it by now, thinking about it still brings a blush to my face.

Looking at him, I know without a doubt that he is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. Both in his world and mine. Strong, sharp masculine features; hair the color of spooled silver and eyes like molten gold. And of course the ears. Two silver triangular dog-ears perched atop his head with a soft fuzziness not unlike velvet. I can't help it; I reach out and scratch behind one ear. There so adorable they beg to be fondled. The low deep sound that rumbles from his chest brings a smile to my face. Something in between a growl and a purr. My smile turns into a grin when he unconsciously turns his head to give me better access.

I continue to scratch as my eyes travel down his face taking in the rest of his beautiful body. Broad shoulders and powerful arms that swing the mighty Tetsseiga in battle after battle; a strong sculpted chest and a set of perfectly chiseled abdominals that taper down to a slim waist, and hidden beneath the covers(among other things) are his powerful sinewy legs that propel him through the air with a grace and ease unmatched by any.

A light tan coupled with his unusual hair and eyes give him an exotic beauty only seen in magazines or read about in fairy tales. But as my eyes take in the whole, I see what the fairy tales fail to mention and the magazines do not show: the scars; so very many scars. I can't help it; I feel my eyes moisten as I gaze on the reminders of struggles past.

My hanyou's heritage affords him amazing regenerative capabilities; enabling him to recover from injuries that would have killed a normal human. Even many a full-fledged demon with all their vaunted superiority would be hard pressed to survive the kind of wounds he has incurred over the years.

I remember the first time I tended to one of his injuries. It was a couple months after we had first met. In the past, he had always refused vehemently to let me or anyone take care of his injuries, no matter how bad they might have been. I ended up having to sit him on that particular occasion in order to remove his haori and undershirt so I could dress the injuries I knew he had.

I had thought at the time that he resisted so much because of his macho attitude or sense of pride. But that wasn't it at all. It was because he didn't want anyone to see the evidence of all the years of hard-earned survival. When I finally saw what he had sought to hide, I was horrified.

His torso, front and back, was criss-crossed with so many scars it was hard to count them all. Cuts, gashes, punctures, and burns of all sizes and severities. Many were so ghastly they made my stomach turn. There were even scars on top of scars. The whole time I sat there staring in abject horror, he held his eyes averted, whether in shame or embarrassment I don't know.

He only turned to look at me when I started crying. And the look in his eyes made me cry all the more. The look he gave me was one of dumbfounded confusion laced with panic. He couldn't understand why I was crying. That someone would cry over his pain and suffering was unfathomable to him. No one had cried for him. No one. Not since his mother.

I think that was when I decided that I wanted to help him; that I wanted to heal him if I could. To show him that he was deserving of love and friendship. That he was worth so much more than what he'd been told all his life. No matter the personal cost to me.

They say that every scar carries with it a memory. My Inuyasha has so very many. After I managed to stem the flow of tears and cleaned and dressed his wound, we spent hours together afterward; he talked and I listened. He was reluctant at first but I think he felt responsible somehow for my tears. The baka.

After being prodded a few times and with the unspoken threat of more tears, he relented. I would point out a scar and he would tell me how he got it. One after the other until the story of his life was laid out before me. Through a great effort of will, I managed to keep from crying while he spoke. But when he was done with his tale, I could hold them back no longer. I wrapped my arms around his neck, buried my head in his shoulder, and cried until I could cry no more.

How anyone could mistreat another so baffles me. Was it so very difficult to look beyond the surface to see the truth of him? To see his heart of gold, fierce loyalty and sense of honor? I want to rage and scream at the injustice of it all. At a world so steeped in preconceived notions and flawed beliefs that they couldn't or wouldn't see what was in front of them. Not a hanyou, not a youkai nor a human. But a child. Simply a child who only wanted to love and be loved in return. But instead they scorned, ridiculed and hunted him

Such a beautiful creature and they treated him like a rabid animal.

Pulling my legs up and resting my head on them, I gaze back at his face. I can't help but smile as I see his normally hardened features now are soft and peaceful in sleep. As I reach out and trace the line of his jaw with my finger, I cannot help but wonder: is this how he was before? Were his features soft and inviting? Was the constant scowl that he now wears once a brilliant smile?

Did his eyes that now show within them a haunted sadness once hold a lighthearted happiness? Was this the way he looked before? Before his father was slain trying to protect him; before his mother was killed because she dared give him life; before his entire world was destroyed, and pain and hate became his only companions.

Is this how he looked when he was loved?

I can only hope. Hope that the all to short time spent with his mother and father were filled with laughter and joy. I hope because I cannot ask. Because even though he tries to hide it, I know he feels the pain still. I know it runs deep down to his very core where it has been etched with blood and tears.

I know because I see it in his eyes; the soul's window. Those beautiful golden orbs that hold so much depth and dimension that it's all I can do not to drown in them. His eyes tell me everything. When there not sparking with anger or irritation they hold his pain. The pain of a life spent alone and hunted; in those molten pools of amber, I see the sadness of a life spent without love or succor. In his eyes I see the anguish of one who has lost everyone and everything they've ever cared about. And I cannot help but cry; cry for all his loss, for his pain, and cry for him because he no longer can.

Though I know it causes him great pain to recall those times, I nonetheless look forward to and cherish those times when he does share his past with me. That he would voluntarily let down his gruff and indifferent facade and let me see him at his most vulnerable means more to me than he could know.

But I will not ask. I couldn't bear to be the cause of his pain. He has seen far too much in his lifetime; more than any one man should have to bear. So, I put aside my curiosity and content myself in the knowledge that he lets me see a side of him that no one else ever has. Not even _her_.

It's amazing really; despite all he has experienced, he has endured. His soul has remained unconquerable. Indomitable. It is one of the things I love about him the most, my Inuyasha. He is my friend, my protector, and my lover. He is the strongest man I have ever known, both in body and in spirit; and I will remain by his side for as long as I am able. No matter what.

**End Note:** I was inspired to write this story after watching the shower seen in Daredevil. If your not familiar with the movie you should watch it, it's agood film. Anyway, in this particular scene you see daredevil coming home to a nice hot showerafter a night of wooping ass.The camera pans to a shot of his back and the guys got hella scars.Naturally itmade the light bulb go off in my head an I thought to myself: 'huh, ifDD isthis messed up afteronly a few years justimagine the scarrage on Inu after decades.' Question: Do we actualy know how old dog boy is? If someone knows please tell me. And before you go off on his healing factor let me say this: I don't care how fast you heal; your gonna have scar tissue. That's my story and I'm stickin' to it. Story wiseI'm not sure I got everything across the way I wanted. It seems a little disjointed to me but perhaps that's just the pessimist in me. Perhaps you the reader can clarify the issue;) Now, I'm off to work and perhaps when I get home I can FINALLY finish the second chapter to _Giri. _Here's hoping anyway.


End file.
